or “about five miles down Route 30” as she directed him to her home. It had taken him a moment to backtrack in his mind as to why he was going there. She’d come to Thor’s Hammer last night in her friend’s car, and had been with him since then. Her own car was parked at her home, a place he’d been to only once, in the dark, when she’d brought him over after their “dinner with a bachelor”. Christ, that seemed like a lifetime ago. The woman was messing with his mind. He’d never revealed what he’d overheard to anyone, not even Magnus. He didn’t want to get close to her. He didn’t want to get close to any woman. Soren had learned his lesson at age nine—love hurts. He’d be dipped in sheepshit before he’d let a woman get close enough to hurt him. And this one was damn near there already. Under his skin. Inside his mind. Well, she’d gone as far as she ever would. From now on she was history. He’d see to it. Finally he pulled the truck in front of her home. In the late afternoon light he saw tidy flower beds with yellow and red flowers swaying in the breeze, tulips, he thought.
